


Silent Explosions

by Zxhir



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: F/F, First Time, Silence, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zxhir/pseuds/Zxhir
Summary: What happens when Maca makes the bold decision  to give in to temptation and test the waters one silent night in the bed they share? How will Zulema react and will the unresolved tension finally be acknowledged?
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 65
Kudos: 225





	1. I

This evening is just like any other evening before nightfall. They laugh at how shitty this new TV show is and the last thing that is said between the two before they head to bed, is that the laundry is a priority tomorrow. Maca goes to bed a little earlier than Zulema but they eventually always end up next to each other, back to back, eight inches apart. They were used to it by now, sleeping in the same bed, but it was also undeniable that it created a palpable amount of tension in the room whenever it was time to sleep. One that they both kept choosing not to acknowledge. 

But tonight, Maca can’t sleep and naturally, her mind starts wandering. It starts with an innocent thought but she ends up finding herself unable to stop. Does Zulema feel the tension too? Does she think about it as often as her? Does she too just pretend that it doesn’t exist? Has she ever felt an urge to break the rules; give in, just for a night? Or does she actually not give a single fuck about the blonde, like she had always wanted her to believe? 

There were probably more ways than one to find out, but not for Macarena. She had to know and she was determined to make sure she would get her questions answered.

She hesitates, but eventually reaches over and graces Zulema’s spine below her dark hair with a single finger, her touch light like the brush of a feather. She knows that it is dangerous to pet a scorpion but she simply cannot resist.

She just wants to know what it would be like. She wants to know what her bare skin would feel like against the tips of her fingers and how her body would respond to her touch, what her weaknesses are and if she may have the honor to expose them. She wants to be allowed to explore; to have her permission to find out. But will she let her?

From where Macarena is laying, she’s seemingly unbothered, but her dark eyes have just snapped wide open and are now attentively staring into the darkness of the caravan before her. It was the way she could tell that Maca hadn’t brushed against her accidentally but made contact with her skin intentionally, that suddenly had her wide awake. 

Maca takes a moment to see if the brunette will turn around, question her or just move out of reach, but nothing happens. Her hand moves over again, as if she cannot contain herself, and brushes a raven lock off of her shoulder. It falls perfectly onto the pillow beneath her now unveiled neck. The other woman still hasn’t said anything, nor moved a single limb, yet something tells Maca that she is still awake. 

Did she want her to go on? Was she afraid to meet her half way? Was she ignoring her? Was this okay? 

She scoots a little closer. Just enough to be surrounded with the older woman’s scent. Her hair, her skin, her pillow… it all smells the same - like argan oil and macadamia. She inhales it so deeply that when she exhales again, her breath tickles the brunette’s back and the goosebumps that appear all over her as it does so, tells her that sleep has indeed yet to consume her.

Zulema feels an unfamiliar tension form in the pit of her stomach. A strange feeling of anticipation that suffocates the urge to snap at the blonde; ask her why she’s touching her or scold her for overstepping all kinds of boundaries. It’s like the younger woman has gone too far already, like it wouldn’t make a difference if she stopped now and something within her is suddenly curious to know how far they can go… 

When Zulema still doesn’t respond, Macarena places a soft hand on her hip, one finger at a time, as she tries to read the other woman’s thoughts. She suddenly tilts her hips slightly towards Maca, a silent but clear sign of approval, so her hand keeps wandering. Over the hip bone and under the lace adorning it. Her front is pressed up against the brunette’s back and to get better access she carefully places her chin over her shoulder. Zulema doesn’t protest and Maca wants to believe she’s as intrigued by the moment as she is, but you never know with this woman and it was better to tiptoe around her than to be sorry. 

Her hand drops lower, along her hipbone to her thigh. The fact that Zulema hasn’t pulled back or straight up punched her in the face yet is a miracle. She didn’t expect her to actually let her come this close. Ever.

She moves on, reaching her inner thigh. Having her hands in such prohibited areas made her belly flutter with excitement. But does she dare to go further? Does she have the courage to go all the way? It doesn’t matter. Because in the end, it is not about courage, but all about inability to resist.

She sneaks a hand underneath her body, beneath the curve of her waist to be able to embrace her properly. She makes sure the other feels every inch of her skin, from the middle of her waist to the valley between her breasts, where it stops to tighten the hold around her. The one underneath her travels further, until it’s able to dive beneath the lace. She lingers there for a bit, to give them both some time to breathe. Then she continues, eyes observing the head full of raven hair in front of her. Slowly, her middle finger sinks into the first little dip as she reaches her center, making Zulema lightly twitch from the new touch. The digit then moves over the bundle of nerves right after. Glides, to be exact. Because to Maca’s pleasant surprise, she was wet before she had even touched her and if she was doubting Zulema’s excitement before, she definitely isn’t now. 

It’s still quiet, the only thing audible is the sound of the night outside and the light friction against the comforters from the minimalistic movements they cause each other to make. 

She starts drawing circles, not sure whether Zulema will approve or not, so she makes sure to start slow. She’s been prepared for the brunette to freak out or scold her since the moment the tip of her finger made contact with her back but her arousal has become obvious since then. Maca’s fingers are almost slipping out of rhythm as they stir and it is only enhancing the sensation. She can _almost_ hear the wet response the brunette’s sex is offering. 

Sliding her fingers inside of her feels like sinking them into warm honey and it completely intoxicates them both simultaneously. Maca’s mouth falls open at the sensation and Zulema inhales sharply before her eyes flutter shut.

The older woman bites the inside of her cheek, hard, and turns to the pillow in case a sound would try to slip. She hasn’t opened up enough to let her vulnerability be heard yet. There is still a fair amount of pride restraining her. Despite the heat pooling between her legs, she succeeds to swallow the moans threatening to leave her mouth but the shallow breathing is harder to conceal. It wasn’t that it felt so good despite it being Macarena. It felt so good _because_ it was Macarena and she cursed herself so badly for it.

If she didn’t know better, she wouldn’t know why she is letting her do all of this to her. But she does know better. She knows that they’ve gone too far in their minds already. At least she has. Several times, in fact, and she couldn’t deny that she had begun feeling things she promised to never feel about the blonde. It started long ago but it has come to a point where it’s hard not to act on it; hard to resist. Perhaps Maca wasn’t feeling the same way. Perhaps she was just curious, or horny for that matter but Zulema _wanted_ her and she _hated_ it. She hated that she wasn’t able to restrain herself; that Macarena had the power to make her lose control. 

Maca pulls her two digits back out half-way only to add a little pressure and push them back inside. The muscles in the older woman’s neck are visibly tense and she cannot help but lean in and place a soft kiss right below her jawline. Another move that she doesn’t seem to object. Perhaps she had craved this as much as Maca had all this time. Perhaps she’s just as relieved to finally resolve the tension that’s been lingering between them for years. Perhaps she also feels that _something…_

Zulema carefully, thinking she’s more discreet than she actually is, presses herself impossibly closer against the blonde’s front. She doesn’t want to come across as desperate but _god_ does she need her. Against her skin, around her and inside of her. Especially the latter. 

Neither of them have uttered a word yet. Nothing about the odd situation, nor out of euphoria and they don't seem to plan on doing so either. The warmth their bodies radiate and exchange makes the intimacy increase whether they want to admit it or not. Even if what they express is curiosity and need rather than any kind of love or affection, they both know they cannot help but crave more than their own satisfaction.

Maca pulls herself impossibly closer and graces her teeth along the older woman’s neck, pulling a surprised gasp from her throat. Zulema was focused entirely on the pleasure snaking up her body from between her thighs and wasn’t prepared for the pleasant surprise coming straight for her pulse point. She draws her plump bottom lip into her mouth, sucking it lightly. Maca bites down and _oh_ so does Zulema.

Her hand picks up the pace, making the woman in her arms squirm. The way her body is pressed so tight against hers that their mere atoms are kissing and the way her two fingers are buried so deep inside of her that her palm is pushing against her entrance, makes the older woman feel so full and felt up from every possible angle, that it is _more_ than hard to hold back. Her body is writhing without her permission and her voice is begging to be released.

Maca can hear her at this point. Not her voice, but how wet she is, and it’s an exhilarating feeling knowing that she turns her on just _that_ much. She is aware that she is won’t moan, not only because of pride, but because a confirmation like that would make things too real and she isn’t prepared to admit that this is happening yet… If ever.

She is usually difficult to bring over the edge. It usually takes quite a while to even get her worked up and she often has to finish herself. This is the closest she has ever been to reaching her peak with another person, let alone another woman and she is honestly terrified of being pushed headlong over the edge the way she is without a doubt about to be. It was way out of her comfort zone. 

A third finger is added and Zulema’s cheeks immediately burn from the heat rushing up her body. She is ridiculously grateful for the darkness and blue lighting they have put up in the caravan, because she is so embarrassingly flustered right now and she would hate for it to show… 

Maca works her palm flat against her core as her fingers continuously fill her, over and over again. She doesn’t get to have the pleasure to listen, because Zulema is exceptionally good at hiding any signs of weakness, but she can feel her chest rise and fall. Rise and fall, rise and fall, rise, fall, rise, fall, _rise—_ Until she abruptly stops breathing completely.

Every muscle in her body suddenly go tense. Everything stops and her vision darkens to the point where she can barely see. Her head tilts back and her mouth falls open, her eyes shut closed and her thighs start shaking as a powerful shock, followed by countless waves of pleasure ripple through her body. She doesn’t make a single sound, her strained throat simply chokes on air but it’s enough to enchant the blonde. Her hand is quite literally dripping with her essence, she wouldn’t even dare to ask for more. The sheets are definitely just as wet and will probably be nothing but an awkward reminder tomorrow morning. 

It’s still silent around them. They almost forget it at times because of how loud their thoughts are. Both their minds are running wild and their actions speak way louder than words ever could. This is probably the loudest they have ever been; the most they have ever told each other, with everything but words.

As Maca’s fingers lazily continue teasing to let her ride out the orgasm, the brunette buries half her face in the pillow to hide her flushed cheeks and suffocate her heavy breathing. The way she is desperately heaving for air isn’t very discreet, though. It makes her whole body tremble against the blonde’s. She hasn’t had an orgasm like this in ages and the last person she would have imagined giving it to her is Macarena. 

Her hand has been holding a tight grip around Maca’s wrist since the moment her senses lost control but she quickly lets go as soon as she realizes. It is still as if they think they have a chance of undoing what just happened by being as subtle as possible, though deep down they are both as aware of that that is not how it works… 

Maca’s strong hold of her loosens while she places soft kisses along Zulema’s shoulder, allowing her to catch her breath and gather herself. The older woman doesn’t move from her spot after that. Not a single twist or turn. The tension fades and so does the desperate desire. Instead, the space is invaded by confliction and something similar to regret. A conversation to save for another day.

Maca’s arms retire but she remains close behind the brunette. The heat in the bed stays all night as they wait for sleep to consume them, but it probably won’t for quite a while. 

Tomorrow, this will never have happened. 


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Zulema is very familiar with destruction, but she always thought explosions were quick; that they happen suddenly. She was wrong. Apparently there are those capable of making you feel the burning heat of the blast in slow motion. Those, so painfully slow, they will make you wish you never lit the fuse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A part two was requested and since I hold this story very dear, I decided to grant your wishes. 💫 It’s been a pleasure writing this one. 
> 
> I really hope you’ll enjoy it!

It’s another one of those nights. A night followed by an evening that was just like any other. Zulema made dinner, nothing special, and Maca had made the bed with freshly laundered sheets before it was time for sleep. They never speak more than necessary after the sun has set and tonight is not an exception. Perhaps because there are so many things that are better left unspoken since words weigh heavier after dark.

They haven’t forgotten about the night those weeks ago —the one that _never happened—_ but they have let it go in a way. They have accepted that it happened and decided that it isn’t going to happen again. Even though they haven’t made a verbal agreement, or spoken a single word about it for that matter, they both are on the same page about that... only it’s the wrong one and it’s only a matter of time before they will come to realize. 

They have started sleeping a little closer now, as if they can relax a little now when the tension has been resolved. They don’t touch, or face each other unless it is in their sleep, but they are no longer terrified of the thought of a leg accidentally brushing against another or an elbow resting against an arm on the other side of the bed. 

What had been there from the moment they met had indeed dissolved into thin air but there is something new lingering in the deafening silence that invades the van every time the stars come out, and perhaps they should talk about it, but neither of them are good with words. They have different ways of interpreting conversations and always end up arguing because Zulema has a temper and Macarena lacks patience. A pretty shitty combination, in other words. 

Zulema has been thinking a lot about that night lately, in fact. Mostly cursing herself for letting it happen, but also because she so badly wants to know what had gone through the blonde’s head as things started to unfold. What made her take the initiative? What was she thinking as she was given permission? Had she expected it? Why was she being so careful and _so tender_ with her?

She had always imagined them getting together out of frustration during a fight, to slaughter that bothersome tension with some sort of angry sex. Something aggressive and on the verge of painful that would end the unwanted attraction between them for good. But Macarena had touched her as if she was fragile or made of gold. Like she _wanted_ to.

Despite them being on pretty good terms after all this —most likely because they haven’t talked enough to even have the chance to argue— they know that they are toxic for each other. _Perfectly_ toxic. Like gasoline and fire, they make each other powerful. That's why they joined forces in the first place. Zulema needed the gasoline and Maca needed the fire. Together they could spark a whole infierno. Whatever happens between them, whatever relationship they will eventually end up having, it too is going to explode. It is something that they’ve always been aware of. 

They just never thought they were going to want it to last. 

But here they are. Ridiculously desperate, painfully regretful and with thoughts and desires that are all but appropriate. Zulema is very familiar with destruction, but she always thought explosions were quick; that they happen suddenly. She was wrong. Apparently there are those capable of making you feel the burning heat of the blast in slow motion. Those, so painfully slow, they will make you wish you never lit the fuse.

Is it already done? Are they still awaiting the blow? Or had last time simply been a spark that had died out as fast as it had come to life? Do they dare to hope that it won’t catch fire if they take another chance?

Isn’t it, after all, their specialty to play with fire? 

Right when Macarena has turned the dim lights off and gotten comfortable under the weight of her comforter, Zulema reaches over and switches it back on before turning to face the blonde. Maca’s eyes dart up and meet hers in confusion. The brunette gets comfortable again, eyes never leaving hers. Then there’s only silence.

Maca isn’t really sure if she is waiting for the brunette to say something or vice versa but it doesn’t look like she is planning to, nor does she seem to be waiting for the younger woman to take the initiative, she is way too busy studying her face. It is almost as if that’s what she needed the light for… 

It only takes a moment before the older woman reaches over from her side of the bed to grace a finger along her jaw, her thumb briefly joining to lightly brush against her chin as her hand retires, almost in a nurturing manner; her touch sparkling with some kind of longing. 

Maca gazes at her for another moment before she lets out a bright laugh, one that she knows is contagious just to ease the tension but the smile Zulema offers in response is brief to say the least. She is so focused and lost in thought that she isn’t present enough to make it genuine. 

Maca had not thought anything was going to happen between them again. She is still pretty sure it won’t. The way Zulema’s gaze is lingering on her face with some kind of awe makes her confused rather than nervous because she can’t quite believe the brunette would take the initiative to engage with her like that, let alone another time. 

A brief frown forms upon Maca’s face and if Zulema didn’t know better she could have taken it for an insignificant twitch but she realizes rather quickly that Maca is silently questioning her unexpected approach. She doesn’t blame her. She knows exactly how it feels. 

Dark emerald eyes have left Maca’s and now wander down her neck covered with blonde locks, all the way out on her bare shoulder. She scoots closer before she reaches out once again to twirl a golden lock between curious fingers. Maca blinks, impatiently waiting for her to say something, but she doesn’t. 

Her eyes come back up and so do her hands. One rests soothingly above Maca’s head as the other one carefully runs through her hair, from her temple to the back of her head where she stops only to start over, slower, to be able to memorize every silky inch that slips through her fingers. 

Maca can't stop watching the other woman’s face as she does so. She has never seen Zulema so harmonious. The serenity in the way her eyes observe every detail like they have all the time in the world, is something she didn’t know she had in her and Maca isn’t used to being looked at this way. Especially not by her. 

_“Qué haces..?”_ Maca whispers. It’s barely audible. 

The older woman doesn’t answer, because she doesn’t know. Something stupid, that’s for sure, but what can go wrong? What do they have to lose? What is the worst thing that can happen if she finally leans in? How can they claim to be courageous if this terrifies them? 

She doesn’t realize that these thoughts are just desire trying to convince her, the way it does when you lose control. Deep down she knows that this would ruin them beyond repair, but lust is stronger than common sense and she has never felt so willing to surrender. 

Maca watches her intense thought process as darker eyes switch between hers. What is she thinking? Zulema is smart; strategic. Surely she wouldn’t make a move as foolish and naïve as the one currently invading Maca’s mind… 

But as if wished into existence, Zulema’s hand comes to rest on the back of her neck before she suddenly leans in. Slowly, yet too fast for Maca to process and before she knows it the older woman’s lips have captured hers in the most tender way possible, making it almost impossible to believe that they belong to Zulema Zahir; _el elfo del puto infierno._

Maca would gasp in surprise, but the absolute euphoric shock leaves her breathless and when the brunette’s lips part, Maca’s follow as if bewitched. Hot breaths meet in the middle before their mouths melt together another time, deepening the kiss. 

_So this is what it feels like._

They both have wondered for a very long time and now when they finally get to experience it, it is nothing like they imagined it would be. It is better. Maybe because now they can feel the physical warmth and taste the thin layer of sweetness coating the other’s lips, something their minds lacked the power to merely imagine. 

At first, neither of them dare ask for permission to deepen it further. Shallow never felt this deep anyway. But Zulema, who is known to face her fears and refuses to let this be an exception, eventually gathers courage enough to gently grace her tongue over Maca’s lower lip. The blonde answers it immediately and their tongues meet for a dance. Gently. Embracing the emotions that have been buried even deeper than the superficial attraction they had already acknowledged. 

The fist in her hair tightens around blonde waves before their lips part abruptly and eyes find their way back to each other. Zulema’s already big doe eyes suddenly seem even bigger, like there is a whole new world behind them and somewhere in the depths of emerald, there must be a leak because Maca can suddenly read her mind… 

She realizes that Zulema has fallen victim to temptation and is about to give in no matter the cost. She will blow this up, right in this moment; ruin their plan like she had always thought Maca would be the one to do. She could stop her, but she won’t. She’s craving this blast just as much. It would happen sooner or later nonetheless and she doubts there is a better way to destroy a relationship than exactly this way.

The brunette climbs on top of her to be as close as physically possible and her hungry lips leave the ones they have been clinging to for the last minute to move on to skin they have yet to explore. She places a vague trail of kisses down the younger woman’s neck, biting down every so often out of pure starvation. The more of her familiar yet uncharted body she is offered, the more she wants to discover. 

Maca swallows a moan when she first feels Zulema’s teeth sinking in right at her pulse point before the next bite stings right below her collarbone. Even if Maca’s fingers are itching to touch her too, there’s just no space for it as the older woman’s hands savagely roam down every inch of her body. Nails animalistically marking the curves of her waist, all the way down her thighs. 

Zulema is completely driven by desire at this point. The view in the warm light, that she insisted they would keep on, pleases her as much as the feeling of the blonde’s body beneath the tips of her fingers. Her toned stomach tensing up every time she lays hands on her and her subconscious attempts to close her eyes despite them already being closed, is simply _mesmerizing_. 

She can barely decide what she wants to do to her first. Touch her, feel her, surprise her and consume her with all her senses simultaneously. She wants her in ways she doesn’t want to admit, ways that she cannot completely comprehend and ways that are impossible. She wants more than she can have and feels a need that she swore she would never feel for anyone, let alone someone she knows that she cannot keep, for this exact reason. 

Maca is mentaly cursing every time the brunette’s lips meet her skin. She could swear that this is a dream. There is no way Zulema feels the same way she does, though the affectionate kisses tell her otherwise. She always knew that Zulema isn’t the coldhearted sociopath she claimed to be, but this is the complete opposite and so unlike her usual ways that she is almost waiting for a plot twist. For her to bite down, hard, or stop only to mock her for believing she would want her like this; served on a silver platter. Naked and vulnerable, needy and flustered. 

But she does. _God_ she wants nothing more. The warmth of her skin that she usually only felt when they were fighting up close, somehow felt warmer flush against her lips and atop the tip of her nose. Maca squirming underneath her makes her feel a brand new sense of power; a dominance more powerful than the victory of an argument. This is different and she likes it. A lot.

Zulema continues snaking down the blonde’s body, further than Maca expects her to and her mind suddenly starts running wild. She wouldn’t, would she? There is no way Zulema would put her mouth on her like that. 

Zulema grabs the thin lace between her fingers and folds it down to access more skin. The kisses travel lower and so does the lace. Maca’s breathing turns shallow, her eyes shut closed. This was something that she refused to do in prison and something she hadn’t even thought of since the day she got released… until now, and now the mere thought makes it pool uncontrollably between her legs.

Zulema gently wraps her hands around her thighs, hooking her fingers into her groins, places kisses up her inner thighs and lets her lips hover right above her target for a moment. The heat radiating from the blonde’s center completely overpowers her senses with anticipation. 

Maca’s eyes shift from one spot in the ceiling to another, her nerves painfully on edge and her heart racing. As soon as the tip of Zulema’s tongue finally laps up her entrance, an intense shiver of pure bliss is released throughout her body. The touch is so teasingly light, it frustrates her immensely so she bucks her hips in a desperate attempt to increase the friction. She can barely comprehend that this is actually happening… 

Zulema closes her mouth around her and with her tongue, she lazily draws patterns among her folds to get a proper taste and to make sure she feels her everywhere. She feels like she is quite literally eating away the purity of her soul, the most sacred part of the blonde, as the most divine sound leaves her mouth. 

She always thought Macarena would be the last person she would enjoy pleasing, but here she is and she gladly lets it go to her head that Macarena quite literally writhes with lust. She can’t _wait_ to make this temple of a body nothing but ruins _..._

She tastes like tears, love and sunshine all the same. Like the sea, cotton candy and the month of July. Brackish, sweet and warm. The deeper she dives to taste her, the more she is offered and you would think it would still her raging hunger, but she has never known starvation quite like this. 

It frustrates her, though, that Macarena’s skin flush against hers is not enough and as if she was not aware it would eventually, realization comes crashing down on her like an ocean wave… 

_This is not what hatred is supposed to feel like._

There is a fine line between love and hate; the emotions we feel most passionately. Sometimes it’s even hard to tell them apart and since love is not an option in their case, they found comfort in being able to pretend to feel the opposite. They were so determined to hate each other for so long that they eventually forgot the difference…

She _does_ loathe Macarena, but only because she possesses the power to make her lose control. She hates having her around, but only because it disables her to think clearly. She manipulates her to stay, only because she cannot stand losing her and she still needs to kill her one day, because she won’t let her die without her permission.

A hand retires from one of Maca’s groins, disappearing underneath her thigh and despite being lightheaded, she knows what awaits her and she _needs_ it. 

Zulema lets her mentally prepare and catch her breath, knowing she will need the oxygen, before carefully sinking a single digit into her. As she enters her body, a moan leaves it. Macarena isn’t the quiet type. It isn’t like it makes a difference now anyway. Mouth joins the rhythm and the rush of ecstasy makes the blonde gasp zealously. Zulema doesn’t even have to make much of an effort. They both are so high on each other that every touch is electrifying and has them both ridiculously worked up already. 

She twists her hand and Maca’s entire body wants to twirl along with her movement. It is clear that she doesn’t know how to handle this sensation consuming her when Zulema has to hold her down by a hip that starts rising off the bed. She already knew she could make Macarena feel this way, but to _actually make her_ is different. To hear her, feel her and know that her every reaction is a response to her touch. _Her touch only._

Macarena groans.

They know a lot about each other. So much that you would think there aren’t any surprises left for either of them, but Zulema has never heard Macarena sound like that before. She has never seen the blonde’s body tremble with pleasure or squirm with need. This is new. The desperate tone in her voice is new, the way she is grasping for her is new. She doesn’t only need her but she _wants_ her. That is new. 

The younger woman is currently fighting the urge to speak, because she knows that if she does it’s going to come out all weak and shuddery, but she doesn’t know how else to let the brunette know that one finger is _far_ from enough,

“Mh—“ she fails, “ _M-más_ … _Necesito más.”_ and _god_ does it sound pathetic but this is going to drive her completely insane unless she’s offered just that; _more._

Zulema is eager to see what her next move will unravel within the blonde so she doesn’t hesitate to add another finger as soon as she is asked. She sinks into her with such ease, that she decides to add a third as her hand retires only to thrust back inside. The younger woman gasps, head tilted back for better access to air. Hands gripping onto sheets and black hair so hard that they start to tremble until knuckles turn white. 

Her hand sets a pace, a gentle one at first, and Macarena manages to hold her breath until the older woman’s tongue gives attention to her sensitive bundle of nerves yet again. Tiny, little circles, but it makes all the difference.

Her legs start quivering, her voice breaks free and her cheeks turn into a beautiful shade of maroon that only deepens as the pleasure flourishes throughout her body. She shuts her mouth closed to prevent the volume from increasing but the moans are just as loud behind forcefully sealed lips. 

Zulema doesn’t like it, though; the way she’s restraining herself, so she gives her a little break only to crawl up to her level and grab a gentle hold of her pretty, flushed face, 

_“Abre la boca...”_ She demands in a whisper, _”Quiero oirte.”_

So she does, mid moan, and Zulema’s eyes flutter slightly at the sound as her fingers continue to play her like an instrument. Melodic sounds fill the caravan the way she intends to make them as she urges the blonde towards the edge. 

Just as she thinks she has brought her to the last step of the stairwell to heaven, Macarena surprises her by grabbing onto her arm, stilling her movements. 

“ _Yo también quiero tocarte.”_ she pleads under her breath and it makes Zulema’s eyes flash with hesitation. Though she doesn't try to stop the hand that’s already snaking down between their bodies, distracting her enough to make her forget what she is doing for a moment. 

The brunette’s eyes stalk its course and she gasps faintly as fingers that are already trembling come in contact with her inner thigh. They move up, seeking out the alluring heat and lightly brush against the sensitive area right where thigh meets groin; where excitement has a tendency of growing palpable. 

The whole room is set ablaze the moment their voices suddenly collide. Zulema thought she was in control; that she was the one in charge but when Macarena puts her eager hand to use, she completely loses it. The arm holding her up gives in and she tries to support herself the best she can as her elbow hits the sheets next to Macarena’s head. Cheek to cheek, trembling hands in clumsy motion and not a care in the world about anything but the euphoria eating away at their sanity, they find themselves completely lost in each other. Stoked on the very thing they thought was the last thing they’d ever do. 

Maca cries out loud. Zulema inhales sharply. Their voices don’t meet this time because unexpectedly, the brunette is one step ahead of the blonde. Maca’s voice is driving her crazy and she simply can’t help but let herself go to the sound of it. Like an actual siren, Maca has lured her straight into the deep end. 

_Puta Rubia._

Just like last time, she captures her voice halfway through her throat and she prays that Macarena doesn’t notice her victory but the silence and the way her hand comes to an abrupt halt, makes it quite obvious. The way her walls hug Macarena’s fingers while her whole body pulsates gives her away ridiculously fast. 

The blonde buries a hand in raven hair, pressing her rosy cheek against Zulema’s and holds her close until she regains her senses. She is close behind and isn’t focused enough to enjoy anything else than the things being done to her, _except_ the woman she used to fear coming undone on top of her. Even if it’s in the most subtle manner, it’s exactly the push she needs.

As soon as Zulema has come back down from her own high, she leans in, making their parted lips touch when she notices the change in the blonde. The way her back arches off the bed and how her breath hitches on the air being exchanged between the two.

Explosively, she unravels, and everything they were before detonates because Zulema can swear she has a change of heart the moment her name rolls off the younger woman’s tongue, 

_“Zulem— Ah!”_ The last letter turns into beautiful falsetto as it blackens before the blonde’s green eyes and Zulema can feel the blissful, sharp sigh against her lips and sudden burst of essence into the palm of her hand. The total ecstasy makes Maca unaware of the way her body has reacted for a split second, but as soon as she becomes aware, her cheeks flush intensively. 

“ _Lo siento…“_ she heaves shakily before she’s had time to catch her breath and the older woman shakes her head and grins, assuring her that an apology is far from needed. She keeps playing in the mess she’s made, not wanting it to be over yet, until the younger woman grabs onto her to still her movements when it gets too much for her to bear. 

The reality that always comes crashing down after the high is usually uncomfortably awkward no matter who they’ve ended up sleeping with after a night out but this time, for some reason, it isn’t. Nights in the caravan are usually cold, quiet and on the verge of unbearable but from now on, they’ll be different and it is a quite strange feeling.

In fact, they feel like everything they’ve ever known is a lie. When they first joined forces, Zulema thought explosions caused destruction. She never thought being bad would lead to something good. She didn’t know love could be disguised as hatred and she had no idea that she would come to prefer the naked truth.

Zulema’s back hits the sheets on her side of the bed and with limbs still tangled, they both lay with their eyes set on the painted clouds in the ceiling. The younger woman nibbles her lower lip before she decides to break the heavy silence like they’ve broken every rule tonight,

“We both knew that this was going to happen, _no..?”_

It takes a moment before Zulema reacts to her question at all. It’s not that she has to think of an answer, but the reason she knows that the answer is yes. They _did_ know, so why did it take them so long?

“ _Sí,”_ Zulema sighs and lets her thoughts consume her once again. Now that it was done it doesn’t feel like the end of them, which she always thought it would.

 _Is this a new beginning?_

“... now what?” She husks. She’s sure Maca feels it too —The uncertainty of what’s to come.

“ _No sé,_ ” Maca shrugs, ”marriage?” An amused scoff escapes the brunette. ”No more heists at least.” she adds. 

“... _Qué?”_ Zulema suddenly frowns, eyes falling towards the blonde next to her even though her gaze can’t fully reach her, “it’s not like we can’t still rob places just because we fucked?”

“No…” Maca chuckles. That’s not what she meant. 

The confusion keeps Zulema silent until the blonde whispers something that makes her head turn and world change in a heartbeat, 

_”Estoy embarazada.”_

When she taught Macarena how to steal, she never thought she would go straight for her heart.  
 _Let alone her entire future._


End file.
